Bruises
by starsthatburn
Summary: Prompt from Jenna6650: AU - Henry is ill in hospital, and so when the time comes for him to know his birth mother, Regina is the one who seeks her out. However, when she arrives in Boston, Regina finds that Emma now has a family of her own. Trigger warnings for domestic violence.


Prompt from **Jenna6650** for being my 350th reviewer on **A Trail of Destruction** - AU: Henry is ill in hospital, and so when the time comes for Henry to know his birth mom, Regina is the one who seeks her out. However, when she arrives in Boston, Regina finds that Emma now has a family of her own.

Trigger warnings for domestic violence

_**A/N:** I actually really struggled with this one because I absolutely suuuuuuck at AU fics, so I'm well aware that this is by no means my best writing. However, it was a great prompt and I loved the challenge, so hopefully some of you will like it!_

_Also - I'm really very sorry that I seem to be able to turn even the simplest of prompts into a massive angst fest... I swear that I'm not in any way sociopathic. Promise._

* * *

The dark-haired woman stood at the edge of the sidewalk, frowning at the house that was sat on the other side of the road. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been this: the house that was nestled on the very outskirts of Boston was tiny and inexpensive, and it was undoubtedly falling apart – and yet it somehow still reminded her of the cottages that she saw in story books. The same books that she had once read to her son from. The house had once been painted green, though over time the rain and the wind that had roared in from the sea, penetrating through the city itself, had faded the colour down to a muted, minty grey. Everything about the house seemed to be watered down and worn: the flaking paint of the doorframes; the dying grass in the yard; the metal number 7 on the front door that was turning amber from rust. And yet Regina couldn't help but stare, and admire. It looked like somewhere that Henry would enjoy living.

Her chest caught thinking about his name. The last time that she'd seen him he'd been curled up beneath a thin white sheet, tears dribbling down his cheeks. She hadn't been able to tell if they had come from the pain, or just from a pure, deep sadness that he wouldn't let himself vocalise.

He'd only asked one thing of her. Just one. She'd agreed to do it and she'd made it this far – and Regina Mills wasn't about to back out of that promise. Not now. Not when the house that she'd been hunting down for the past week lay right in front of her with its broken gate swinging wide open.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, hitching her purse more firmly onto her shoulder. Towering heels led her across the deserted street before she could give herself the time to think about what she was doing and try to turn back.

The brick path that led up to the front door was cracked and uneven, and more than once Regina nearly stumbled. She kept her chin held high nonetheless, her eyes on that number 7. She noticed now that it was crooked. The whole house looked crooked. She took another deep breath, inhaling the hazy fumes of the nearby city tinged with the faint smell of dampness that was coming from somewhere within the house's porch. She had reached the front door before she knew it.

Raising one fist to knock on the peeling wood, she found herself hesitating. She had no idea what she was expecting to find on the other side of that door: in her head the woman who had abandoned Henry at eighteen had always appeared to her as selfish, irresponsible, careless and probably cruel. Regina closed her eyes for a moment, her fist still raised, calling to mind the picture of the unknown woman that she had constructed over the past ten years: small, and painfully skinny. Grey-skinned and mousy-haired with cigarette smoke clouding her permanently dull, colourless eyes. Henry's birth mother was an enigma, one whom Regina had enjoyed knowing absolutely nothing of. The moment that her fist hit that door, her comforting blindness would be destroyed. She wasn't sure that she was ready to deal with that.

But her knuckle rapped on the wood anyway – because Henry wanted it to. Henry had asked her to do this. His hazel eyes, bleary from the pain medication, hadn't left her brown ones as he'd forced her to promise that she would come and do this for him. She wasn't going to let him down.

Footsteps on the other side of the door made her chest seize. She closed her eyes, and sucked in a breath. Her mayor's smile was ready when that door grazed open.

Blonde hair. Lots of it. Green eyes seeking her out, frowning at her from the darkness of a hallway without windows.

Regina kept smiling, even as she was forced to realise that what she was seeing right in front of her was a woman who was the spitting image of the boy lying a hundred miles away, waiting for her.

'Can I help you?' the woman asked, her forehead creasing in the same way that Henry's did when he was anxious. Regina's smile never faltered.

'Yes,' she replied, holding out her hand just as she had told herself that she would do. 'My name is Regina Mills.'

'Hi,' the woman slowly responded, reaching out to shake it. She was wearing a thin red tank top and ill-fitting jeans, her feet bare with blue-painted toenails peeking out from beneath the fabric. Those blonde curls tumbled down her spine, over her shoulders, falling into her eyes and around her cheekbones. For a moment Regina imagined what Henry would look like with blonde hair, with those curls, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch.

'Are you Emma Swan?' she heard herself ask. The woman blinked.

'Yes,' she said, looking around for a moment to see if Regina had anyone with her. 'Do I… do I know you?'

'No,' Regina said. 'But I have something that I need to discuss with you. Would it be alright if I came in?'

The look on Emma's face told her that it most definitely would not be alright. And yet, she stepped backwards even so. Regina edged past her, waiting beside a half-painted wall for the door to close and for Emma to lead her into the next room. When she did, Regina found herself in a sparsely furnished living room with faded green carpet. The sofa that she was invited to sit on faced a television set that was cracked in one corner and leaned to one side at an odd angle.

The room was clean at least, she forced herself to admit. The curtains that hung about the small window were thrown wide open to let as much watery Boston sunlight in as possible, and when Emma edged past Regina that faint yellow glimmer from outside got caught in her blonde hair. The brunette watched with a pang of what could have been jealousy as she sidled past her, sitting down in the threadbare armchair beside the TV.

She curled up her feet beneath her body and forced a smile. Regina noticed that even as she did so, the corners of her mouth still seemed to point downwards.

'So,' Emma said, placing her hands in her lap. 'Regina, was it?'

'Yes. Regina Mills.'

'Right. What can I do for you?'

Regina forced another smile. It was too bright, too easy. Emma's eyes narrowed at it.

The mayor opened her mouth to tell her why she was there. To tell her about Henry. But then, at the last moment, she faltered: she wasn't quite ready for that. Not just yet.

'Do you live here alone?' Regina heard herself asking. She wasn't quite sure why.

Emma frowned, but answered nonetheless. 'No. I have a husband. But he's at work.'

'I see. What does he do?'

'He's a policeman,' she said. Regina wasn't sure whether she was telling the truth or whether she was just trying to warn this strange woman off of doing anything that she might regret.

'Do you have any children?'

'No,' Emma said without missing a beat. Her tone was sharp as she asked, 'Do you?'

Regina ignored the question. 'And what do you do, Miss Swan?'

'Instead of me answering that,' Emma said, folding her arms across her chest. As she did so Regina noticed a fading bruise along the back of her arm. 'Why don't you answer a question of mine?'

Regina swallowed, nodding. 'Alright.'

'What are you doing here?'

Regina paused. '…I have to ask you something.'

'You've already asked me a few somethings,' Emma said, raising her eyebrows. 'How do you even know my name? How did you find me?'

'I have… contacts,' Regina admitted somewhat reluctantly. This woman didn't need to know just how much money she had spent on a website entitled whosyourmomma. org.

Emma sighed, running her hand unconsciously over that bruise on her arm. 'Look. Here's the thing: I don't know who you are. I don't know why you're here, or why you're so interested in me. So can you just do us both a favour and get to the point?'

Regina blinked. For some reason she hadn't expected this woman, with her perfect princess curls and skinny arms, to be quite so forthright. She had to admit that it was oddly impressive.

She swallowed. 'Okay. Here it is.'

There was a long pause as she took in a breath, trying to drag the words out of her throat. She didn't want to say it. She did not want this woman involved in her life in any way.

But she'd promised Henry. She'd promised, and she didn't have a choice.

'It's about your son.'

Emma blinked. 'I… I don't have a son.'

'Yes you do,' Regina replied in a flat voice. 'You gave a baby up ten years ago. I adopted him. He's… he's called Henry.'

Emma was frozen in her chair, her green eyes flashing with wariness. She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. Instead she just shook her head at the strange woman sat before her.

'He's not very well,' Regina continued, looking down at the ground between them. 'He's in hospital.'

'Look, lady,' Emma choked out. Her face had gone startlingly pale. 'If they think he's got some genetic illness, I really can't help you – I'm healthy, and I've never met my parents. I don't know anything about them.'

'It's not genetic,' Regina said. 'At least, they don't think it is. But that's not the reason why I'm here.'

'Then why are you here? You don't look like you'd need money,' Emma said, eyeing her perfectly pressed shirt and skirt.

'I don't need money either,' Regina said. She sighed. 'There's a chance… a small chance that Henry might not make it.'

Emma flinched. 'Oh. I'm sorry.'

'We're still hopeful,' Regina said, forcing a smile. 'He has improved over the last few days. But… well, there's still a danger that it could get worse. And Henry… Henry asked me to do something for him. Just in case.'

'Oh,' Emma sighed. '_He _sent you?'

'He wanted to meet you,' Regina said, the words tasting metallic on her tongue. 'He's a very curious little boy. He wanted… he just wanted to know who you are. And I promised him that I'd try and find you.'

Emma nodded slightly, but she still looked shell-shocked. 'Right.'

'I understand that this is probably a bit of a surprise,' Regina said. 'And I realise that this is probably the last thing you need. But, as I'm sure _you _understand – inviting my son's birth mother to walk back into our lives isn't something that I'm especially keen on either. So I wouldn't be here unless I was really desperate.'

'No. I get that,' Emma muttered, leaning back in her seat. As she did so her curls slid off of her shoulders, leaving the pale flesh there exposed to the room. Regina couldn't help but narrow her eyes when she realised that there was another bruise peeking out from underneath the strap of her tank top. 'It's just… Ms Mills… look, I was eighteen when I had the kid. I couldn't look after him. I gave him up because I wanted him to have his best chance and… look at you. You obviously gave him that. If I was still looking after him and he got sick I wouldn't even be able to pay the hospital bills. There's a really good reason why you're his mother, not me.'

'I appreciate that,' Regina said, dragging her eyes away from the bruised skin. 'And so does Henry. But if there's even the _smallest _chance that he might not… that something could go wrong soon… Miss Swan, he just wants to see you before that happens. That's all. I'm not inviting you for dinner, or to move into our house, or to sit by his side and nurse him back to health again. I just promised him that I'd ask you to come and see him.'

Emma nodded. Her face was still pale, and her fingers were nervously tangling together in her lap.

'Where is he?' she asked quietly.

'Storybrooke General Hospital,' Regina replied. 'Maine.'

'I've never heard of it,' Emma said. Regina's face remained completely impassive.

Emma sighed once more, her chest heaving below the thin red fabric of her shirt. Regina found that she couldn't take her eyes off of it, telling herself that she was simply looking for more bruises.

When Emma sighed again, it was a defeated sound. Regina looked back up again to find that she was shaking her head.

'Here's the thing,' she said quietly. 'I feel bad. I really do. And I appreciate that coming down here and finding me can't have been easy for you. But… Ms Mills, I don't _know _the kid. I made a choice to give him up and I made that choice for a reason. He… he doesn't know who I am, or what I'm like, or anything – if he meets me, I'll only be a disappointment to him. I'll just be the woman who let him go. He doesn't need that.'

'But he's asked to see you,' Regina said, not sure why she was pushing this when it would be far easier to simply get up and go home to her son.

'I know that,' Emma sighed. 'Like you said – he's curious. But that doesn't mean that the reality will help him.'

'You don't know that.'

'And you don't know that it will,' Emma said. 'Look – I have a _life _here. I can't just take off to East Jesus Nowhere at the drop of a hat to go and see a kid that my husband doesn't even know about. I mean – God. Are you married, Ms Mills?'

'No,' Regina said quietly. 'I'm not.'

Emma groaned to herself. 'Well. Marriages are… difficult. They don't need any more complications than are strictly necessary, and this is definitely one hell of a spanner to throw in the works. I can't… I can't do that to him. To us.'

'Because you're afraid of how he'll react?' Regina asked flatly. Emma jumped.

'No,' she snapped. 'What? Why would you even ask that?'

'Anyone would react badly to something like this,' Regina shrugged. 'You'd be well within your rights to be worried about it.'

Emma narrowed her eyes. She was well aware that that wasn't the reason that Regina had said it. Tugging the fabric of her shirt more firmly over the bruise on her shoulder, she let her gaze fall back down to Regina's towering black heels.

'I can't come,' she said simply, her voice expressionless. 'I'm sorry.'

Regina forced herself to nod. 'If you're sure.'

'He doesn't need me.'

'Perhaps not,' Regina said. 'Or maybe, right now, you're exactly what he needs.'

'Why would _I _be what he needs?' Emma asked. She sounded exhausted.

'You're an answer,' Regina said simply. 'Henry likes answers.'

A tiny smile came over Emma's face for a moment. She almost looked wistful. And then, just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. Regina watched as her face hardened and the blonde woman before her forced herself to her feet.

'I'm sorry, Ms Mills,' she said, gesturing towards the door. 'I want to help you. I do. But me coming to see him… that won't change anything. I have a tendency to only make things worse whatever I do.'

Regina stood up to join her, waiting to be led across the living room. Emma, however, didn't move.

'If you say so, Miss Swan,' she said, letting herself smile. Emma's hair was covering the bruise on her shoulder once again, and yet she found herself eyeing the spot where it had been nonetheless.

'I'll only hurt him more,' Emma said. She was talking more to herself than she was to the brunette stood before her. 'He doesn't want me there. Not really.'

'Okay,' Regina said, taking a small step closer. Emma only looked up from the ground when Regina was right in front of her, a pinched look of concern on her face.

From across the room Emma had thought her eyes were black. This close, she realised that they were actually a warm, melting caramel. She couldn't stop staring at them.

'You should… you should probably go,' Emma said with a sigh. 'If he's ill, he needs you.'

'I know,' Regina said. 'I just wanted to make sure that I couldn't persuade you.'

'Why?'

A hand slowly reached out towards her, nudging her blonde curls away from her shoulder until the bruise was exposed once more. Emma flinched.

'I know a thing or two about this,' Regina said in a low voice, her eyes fixed firmly on the bruise that looked even more violent close up. 'About hiding bruises, and being afraid to step out of line.'

'I don't know what—'

'And about being scared to leave,' Regina interrupted. Green eyes watched her curiously. 'You at least have a choice here, Miss Swan. You _can _leave. Some people aren't so lucky.'

Emma narrowed those laser pointer eyes, taking this in. 'You said that you aren't married.'

'I'm not,' Regina said. 'But I was. A long time ago. And I know this much – the moment that I had the opportunity to leave, I took it with both hands. Regardless of the consequences.'

'With all due respect, Ms Mills,' Emma said, her eyes suddenly flashing, 'you don't know me. You have no idea about what's happening here.'

'No. But I'm willing to bet that I know more than most other people do.'

'Because you're speculating.'

'Or because I'm looking,' Regina said simply. She took a step backwards. 'Just like how your son is looking for you. I'm just holding up my end of the bargain.'

'By intruding on my personal life?'

'By showing you that there's someone out that who cares about you,' Regina said flatly. 'There's someone who wants to_ know_ you, Miss Swan. I can't say that I especially approve of that – but if it gets you out of here, then I'm not going to lie to you about it. Henry wants to meet you. You should come with me. Now.'

Emma shook her head. She looked panicked. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'You'd prefer to live with a man who—'

'You know nothing!' Emma suddenly exploded, her forehead creasing into fierce lines. '_Nothing_! This is _my_ life, Ms Mills – I'm the one who has to live it, not you. And I'm not just going to up and leave my husband because you've decided to indulge in your son's twisted daydreams of having a happy family.'

'My son _has_ a happy family.' Regina's tone was full of sudden warning. 'He has a happy life. Do not dare mistake his curiosity for anything else, Miss Swan, because I will not stand for it.'

'Just as _I _will not stand for you judging my life and judging the man that I married,' Emma snapped. She suddenly moved past Regina, leading her into the dark hallway with her hair streaming out behind her. When she threw open the front door, Regina didn't move to walk through it.

'You need to leave now, Regina.'

'Yes,' she replied, still not moving. 'I probably do.'

Emma blinked with disbelief. 'Well? Are you going to?'

'I don't know,' Regina said, tilting her head to one side. 'Are you going to consider coming to see Henry?'

'No.'

'Are you going to be okay staying here?'

Emma flinched again. 'Yes. Okay? I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, it's quite frankly none of your business anyway. So you may go now.'

'Okay,' Regina said, taking a small step past her. When she was on the porch, she turned back with a frown etched across her forehead. 'If you change your mind – we live at 108 Mifflin Street, Storybrooke. The town… it can be quite difficult to find. But it's there.'

'Great,' Emma said flatly, folding her arms across her chest. She had moved to the centre of the doorway like she was planning on tackling Regina if she tried to come back in again. 'Thanks.'

Regina nodded. 'Please. Do think about it.'

Emma said nothing. The bruise on her shoulder was visible again and Regina forced herself not to stare at it.

'It was nice meeting you, Miss Swan,' she said slowly, not smiling. 'Hopefully Henry will be seeing you soon as well.'

She turned away and began to walk across the road to her car. She was inside and clipping in her seatbelt before she let herself look back across the street again – the front door was still open. Emma was watching her, frowning. Regina couldn't tell whether she was still there because she was checking that she was actually going, or whether it was because, for some reason, she simply didn't want her to leave.

* * *

'He's taken a turn, Mayor Mills.'

Regina's jaw tightened. She pulled her eyes away from the blonde doctor stood before her, focusing instead on the boy who was lying in bed on the other side of the glass. Her chest tightened whenever she noticed how pale he had gotten.

'I thought you said that his condition was improving?' she asked in a low voice, trying to stay calm.

'It was,' Dr Whale replied. 'It was looking very promising. And then, this morning… I don't know what to tell you, Madam Mayor. Something has affected him.'

'Last week,' she gritted her teeth together, 'when I left town to find… that woman – you _told me _that he was on the mend. What were you doing? Humoring me?'

'Mayor Mills, I can't tell you any more than what we can see here,' Dr Whale said. 'He was improving. He was sitting up in bed last night. And now, he's worse. There's a chance that he could have caught some kind of virus while staying here, and because of his compromised immune system, it's affected him more severely than it would do ordinarily.'

'But he's going to be okay?' she asked. Her eyes were flashing with something that couldn't have been mistaken as anything other than desperation.

Dr Whale paused. 'We'll know in the next twenty four hours.'

Regina swallowed. The rest of the hospital suddenly seemed very quiet.

'Fine,' she muttered. 'May I see him?'

'We're just about to take some more blood,' the doctor said. 'We have to run a few more tests. It might be half an hour or so before you can go in.'

'So, what?' Regina snapped. 'I'm just meant to stand here and watch as you prod him with needles? I can't even visit my own son?'

'You're more than welcome to visit him, Regina; just not right this second.' Dr Whale sighed, reaching out to place his hand on her arm. 'Look – why don't you run home and get some of his things for him? Maybe that book that he's been asking about? It'll be a nice surprise for him when he wakes up.'

'I am _not_ letting this illness work as excuse for him to fill his head up with fairy tale nonsense,' she bit out. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

'In that case,' he said flatly. 'Yes. You'll have to sit here and watch while we run the tests. It's your choice, Madam Mayor.'

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off down the corridor. Regina was left standing alone, her hands bunched into fists by her sides. Through the glass she could see nurses beginning to gather by the side of her son's bed. He looked so… tiny.

She couldn't watch it.

'Fine,' she muttered to herself, turning around and beginning to walk down the same hallway that Whale had just marched off down. If Henry wanted the damn book, then he could have it. She wouldn't be known as the woman who wouldn't even let her son read while he was stuck in the hospital.

She got back into her car and raced across town. If Henry woke up while she was gone… she would never forgive herself. She would never forgive Dr Whale either, given that this whole endeavor had been his ridiculous idea. She gritted her teeth together. _Since when did you start following the orders of that charlatan? He doesn't even have a real medical degree, you fool._

She reached Mifflin Street. As she pulled closer to her own house, she realised with a frown that there was a car parked on the road outside. A car that she didn't recognise: a garishly bright yellow Beetle with the metal of the frame showing through the paint on one of the doors. She raised an eyebrow. Parking her Mercedes on the driveway, she turned the engine off and stepped out onto the tarmac. As she turned, she realised with a jolt of surprise that someone was sat on the edge of her porch.

'You were right,' the woman said, standing up to meet her. 'This town is pretty hard to find.'

'Miss Swan,' Regina said, taking a step closer to her. Emma had replaced her red tank from the week before with an even gaudier leather jacket of the same colour. 'What are you doing here?'

Emma shrugged, her head hanging forwards as Regina approached her. She only looked up when the mayor was stood three feet away.

'Oh.' The sound came from Regina's mouth without her meaning for it to. Emma's expression didn't change.

An enormous bruise was spread across the left side of her face. The flesh below her eye was slightly green, and her cheekbone was swollen from a vicious, sore-looking cut. The injury was obviously several days old, and Regina knew that the bruise must have been fading – so she couldn't begin to imagine what it must have looked like in the first instance.

'Miss Swan,' she said, taking half a step forwards. Her voice cracked. She couldn't explain why. 'What…? What happened to you?'

'I fell down,' Emma said flatly, not bothering to try and sound convincing. When Regina continued to stare at her, she only shrugged. '…I thought that you'd be happy that I decided to come.'

Happy wasn't exactly the word – but Regina forced a smile nonetheless. 'Yes. Of course I am. I'm glad that you changed your mind.'

She didn't need to say what she was thinking: _it's obvious that the change of heart probably wasn't down to my persuasiveness, though. _Emma saw it in her narrowed eyes without her saying a word.

'I've just come home to get some of Henry's things,' Regina said with a sigh. 'He's… taken a bad turn, unfortunately. He may have caught some virus.'

Emma swallowed. 'I'm sorry. Did I… did I come at a bad time?'

'No,' Regina replied, gliding past her and unlocking the front door. 'It'll be a nice surprise for him when he wakes up.'

She stepped into the house, gesturing for Emma to follow her. The blonde woman crept over the threshold, her eyes widening at the enormous foyer.

'Let me show you into the living room,' Regina said, walking over to the next door. 'Are you okay to wait for me here while I get Henry's things?'

'Of course.'

'Can I get you a drink?'

'I'm fine, thanks.'

Regina nodded, but her eyes had drifted back to the open cut on Emma's face. 'Miss Swan… did you have that checked out?'

'It's a scratch. It's fine.'

'It looks painful.'

'It is,' Emma said flatly, sitting down on the couch. 'But it's still fine.'

Regina inhaled sharply. 'Miss Swan—'

'I didn't come here to be lectured, Regina,' Emma interrupted. 'I came here to see the kid.'

Regina faltered. Then she nodded. 'Very well. Wait here – I'll be back in a moment.'

She could feel Emma's eyes watching her as she disappeared out of the room and up the stairs, her heart clenching like a fist in her chest.

* * *

When she came back, she was clutching a small green box in her hands. Emma jumped when she reentered the room, having been distracted staring at the ornate piano that was sat in the corner and so not having heard her footsteps. The moment she glanced up, however, she saw that box and her sharp eyes narrowed.

'Seriously. Do you ever listen?'

'Not usually,' Regina said, sitting down on the couch next to her and opening up the first aid kit. 'I'm not taking you into a hospital looking like this. They'll think that you're a trauma victim and refuse to let you past the emergency room.'

'Stop exaggerating. It's fine.'

'It's infected. What did he do, carve into you with a rusty nail?'

Emma went quiet for a moment. And then she muttered, 'I fell down.'

'Of course you did,' Regina said, tearing open a packet of antiseptic wipes. 'And onto what?'

She didn't receive a response. She wasn't sure that she expected to.

Emma couldn't help the hiss of pain that came from between her teeth when the damp material touched her skin. She screwed her eyes tightly shut, but forced herself not to say a word. Regina bit at her bottom lip, her eyes grazing over the blonde's pale face for a moment, before she went back to examining the cut. It wasn't deep, but it was definitely swollen and dangerously close to being septic. Whatever had happened to her – whatever Emma's husband had hit her with… it hadn't just been his hand.

She wasn't sure why she felt quite so badly about this.

Her son was in hospital. Her son might be awake at that very moment, waiting for her to return – and yet she couldn't take her eyes off of that deep, aggressive cut and she couldn't drag her hand away from the soft skin surrounding it. She was staring at a woman whom she knew that she should hate, and yet, for whatever reason, all she saw in front of her was a strange version of herself. Many years ago, in another world entirely, she had been this same person; scared and trapped and screwing her eyes shut.

Emma Swan had given up her son to give him his best chance. How was it fair, then, that she herself hadn't been allowed the same thing?

'I was married to a man who abused me.'

The words came from Regina's mouth without her thinking about them, and suddenly Emma's green eyes had snapped back open.

Regina sighed, wiping at the cut one final time before placing the now dirty cloth on the table by her side.

'You… you were?'

'Yes,' Regina said flatly. 'A long time ago. I was eighteen.'

Emma's eyes widened. 'You got married at eighteen? What did your parents say about it?'

'It was my parents' idea,' Regina said, not meeting her gaze. 'Leopold… he was three times my age and I barely knew him. But my mother wanted us to marry, so we did.'

'Is that even legal?' Emma asked. Regina paused for a moment.

'Probably not,' she muttered. 'But it was very difficult to say no to my mother. She… was very good at getting what she wanted.'

Emma shifted slightly on the couch, turning her body so that she was facing Regina straight on. 'So what happened?'

Distracting herself by rummaging around in the first aid box, Regina swallowed. 'At first… at first it was tolerable. He was happy to be married and he was proud to have a young, beautiful wife. He bought me things and tried to make me happy as well. He _wanted _me to be happy. He… he was a good man, I think.'

'Until he wasn't,' Emma said quietly. Her voice cracked, and Regina knew with a painful jolt in her chest that she had struck a chord with the blonde woman.

'Exactly.' Regina pulled a tube of ointment from the box. 'Turn your chin, Miss Swan.'

Emma did as she was told, angling her face so that Regina could rub the cream into the now stinging wound. Neither of them said a word.

The silence stretched on until suddenly Emma couldn't take it anymore.

'How many years?' she blurted out.

Regina frowned. 'I'm sorry?'

'How many years,' Emma repeated at a lower decibel, 'before he started to…?'

'Oh,' Regina said, swallowing. Her thumb grazed across Emma's cheek. 'I'm not sure exactly. Four or five, perhaps? It's hard to remember.'

Emma nodded, falling silent once more. Regina glanced up as she went to apply more ointment and jumped with shock when she realised that a tear was dribbling down Emma's cheek.

'Emma…?'

'I've only been married for a year,' she said quietly. 'One year and sixteen days. I count them. He started hitting me when we'd been married for three months.'

'Emma, listen—'

'He couldn't even make it a year without wanting to hurt me,' Emma interrupted, raising her glassy eyes to the ceiling. Regina lowered her hand, neglecting the cut so that she could look curiously at the rest of Emma's face. 'I don't know what I did wrong, but he came home from work one day and suddenly he couldn't bear to look at me anymore. He beat me and then he kicked me out on the porch. He told me to stay there until he could bring himself to let me back into the house again.'

Regina flinched. 'And… and did you?'

She couldn't ignore the self-loathing in Emma's eyes when they slid back across to meet her own. '…I just want him to love me again.'

'So you do what he asks.'

'Yeah.' Emma sighed. 'Always.'

'But you left today,' Regina said, returning her attention to the cut. 'Why?'

'I…' Emma faltered, shaking her head slightly. 'I was home alone, and I couldn't stop looking at this photo of us on our wedding day. We looked so happy, and young, and real. And then I saw myself in the mirror. And I started crying.'

She forced a weak smile. Her eyes were still watery.

'I never cry, Regina. Even when he pushed me down the stairs, I didn't cry.'

Regina winced. 'Is _that_ what happened…?'

There was a pause, and then Emma muttered a response. 'Yeah. Our staircase is quite… rickety. I didn't even realise I'd cut myself until I saw blood in my hair.'

'You got this from a wooden staircase?' Regina snapped, turning Emma's chin until she was meeting her gaze once more. '_Emma_. You could have tetanus.'

'It's fine,' Emma said in a flat voice. 'There weren't even any splinters in it. I have a friend… he works in a clinic. He checked it for me.'

'But he didn't think to put anything antiseptic on it?'

'I don't have any insurance,' she muttered. 'I wouldn't let him.'

Regina's chest was tight. She wasn't quite sure whether her heart was beating anymore.

She finished applying the ointment and replaced it in the box, snapping the lid shut with a sigh. Emma watched her the whole while, unblinking. She had stopped crying, but her green eyes still flashed with wetness.

'Have you left him for good?' Regina asked quietly.

Emma hesitated before she admitted, 'I don't know.'

'Then why did you come here?'

'I don't know,' Emma repeated. She sighed. 'I wanted to get away and… I didn't really know anybody to go to. So I drove until I was in Maine, and then I drove until I found you.'

'Me?' Regina asked. She saw the flinch that juddered through Emma's body.

'The kid,' she corrected herself. 'I came to… I wanted to make sure that he was okay.'

Regina nodded. 'Of course. I understand.'

A silence stretched out between them and Regina found that she couldn't take her eyes off of Emma. The cut on her face, now slick with ointment but at least slightly less red, was ugly and protruding from her face. Her mouth was permanently downturned and her blonde hair was matted and knotty. She looked damaged – and yet Regina couldn't help but note just how striking she actually was. Not just because she reminded her so clearly of her son – but because she was genuinely, undeniably beautiful.

She couldn't understand why she found herself thinking that.

'Would you like me to take you to meet your son, Miss Swan?' she heard herself asking. Emma's eyes snapped back up, suddenly filled with terror.

'I don't know.'

'He'll be excited to see you,' she said, reaching out to gently place her hand on Emma's arm. 'If we leave now, we might be there in time for him to wake up.'

Emma didn't respond right away. Even though she had chosen to come here, to find her son and to find Regina and to escape from her own painful reality for a few short hours – she wasn't sure that she was actually ready for it. She still felt like a child herself. She wasn't ready to accept that she somehow had her own.

So Regina stood and gently tugged on her hand, pulling her to her feet without a word. Emma let herself be led out of the room, out of the house, and into the black Mercedes that was sitting on the driveway. As they drove she felt the car humming beneath her feet. She still didn't speak.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital she heard Regina sharply inhale, her eyes fixed on the concrete in front of them as she switched the engine off. The car filled with silence. Eventually, a pair of dark eyes flicked over to meet a pair of green ones.

'Are you ready?' she asked.

Emma blinked, and then responded with her own question. 'How did you leave?'

'Sorry?'

'Your husband,' she said, her forehead furrowing. Her green eyes were darting wildly over the brunette's face, desperately trying to take in whatever detail she could give her. Regina remained completely still, one hand still looped around the steering wheel. 'How did you get out?'

Regina swallowed, turning back to the windscreen, and let herself think about it for a moment.

When she replied, her voice was low. 'Someone still cared about me. And they helped me to escape.'

'And did Leopold ever find you again?' Emma asked, tilting her head to one side.

Regina forced herself to look back at her again.

'No,' she said simply. 'I was very fortunate. Because he… he died.'

Emma blinked. Then she nodded.

'Do you ever miss him?'

A flash of pain crossed Regina's face as she shook her head. 'Never, Miss Swan. Not even once.'

Emma nodded, looking down at her lap. Regina noticed that the red sleeves of her jacket had ridden up slightly, and there was a circle of bruises visible around one wrist.

'I think I'd like to meet Henry now,' she mumbled, swallowing. 'If that's okay.'

Regina paused. Then she reached out, placing her hand on Emma's wrist to cover up the bruises that she couldn't take her green eyes off of.

'Of course it is,' she said quietly, waiting for Emma to look back up at her before she forced a weak, but genuine, smile. 'Let's go.'

Neither of them moved for a moment. Emma bit at her bottom lip, her eyes darting across Regina's placid face once more.

Then she nodded, sucking in a breath through her teeth.

'Okay then,' she said, trying to smile back. 'I'm ready.'

* * *

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading! If you want to come and say hi on tumblr, I'm **starsthatburn **over there as well :) _


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